| Isolations, dotted lines
|
| Seas of concrete, wild eyes
|
| Streaking colors, blurred to one
|
| Always moving, blinding sun
|
| Blinding sun
|
| Coldest comfort, safety glass
|
| Seasons turning, dying grass
|
| California, gilded crowns
|
| Mile markers, counting down
|
| Somewhere down, down
|
| Down in the ocean of sound, sound
|
| We’ll live in slow-motion
|
| And be free
|
| With doors unlocked and open
|
| Doors unlocked and open
|
| Isolation
|
| Isolation
|
| California, gilded crowns
|
| Mile markers, counting down
|
| Somewhere down, down
|
| Down in the ocean of sound, sound
|
| We’ll live in slow-motion
|
| And be free
|
| With doors unlocked and open
|
| Doors unlocked and open
|
| Somewhere down, down
|
| Down in the ocean of sound, sound
|
| We’ll live in slow-motion
|
| And be free
|
| With doors unlocked and open
|
| Doors unlocked and open
|
| Doors unlocked and open
|
| Somewhere down, down
|
| Down in the ocean of sound, sound
|
| We’ll live in slow-motion
|
| And be free
|
| With doors unlocked and open
|
| Doors unlocked and open
|
| Somewhere down
|
| Doors unlocked and open
|
| Doors unlocked and open
|
| Doors unlocked and open |